


Slowly, Sadly, and Properly

by taggiecb



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Crying, Hurt No Comfort, M/M, Post-Break Up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-03
Updated: 2020-12-03
Packaged: 2021-03-10 05:00:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,809
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27859466
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/taggiecb/pseuds/taggiecb
Summary: Louis tries to deal with his break up with Zayn when his best friend Liam invites them both to his wedding.
Relationships: Zayn Malik/Louis Tomlinson
Comments: 5
Kudos: 22
Collections: 1d Breakup Fic Fest





	Slowly, Sadly, and Properly

“Hello?” Louis says as he quickly clicks the speaker button on his mobile. His hands are covered in red pepper juice, and he’s trying his best not to touch anything he doesn’t have to. This is probably also the reason as to why he didn’t check caller id first. 

In the chaos of the dinner prep in front of him, he doesn’t immediately notice that there’s no reply on the other end. He pauses and stares at his phone, saying a little louder, “Hello?” 

He hears a very distinctive, very familiar sigh on the other end, and his heart and stomach clench simultaneously. He quickly washes his hands and picks up the phone, putting it to his ear. 

“Zayn?” 

Zayn sighs again as though Louis saying his name frustrates him in some way. He tamps down the immediate flare of tempter that licks up his veins. 

“Keep in mind you called me,” Louis says. He’s surprised by how little his voice quivers considering the vibrations running through his limbs. 

“I’m having regrets about that,” Zayn replies sarcastically, and a little of his actual personality leaks through the cracks of the wall that he put up a long time ago. 

Louis softens. He doesn’t know why. He doesn't know why. Zayn could be calling him to ball him out, to take another swing at his inability to compromise, although it's a long shot. It’s been over six months since Louis had even heard Zayn’s voice. Surely tempers have cooled since that horrible last day. “Well you did, and I can’t imagine it was easy to do, so why don’t we power through?” 

Another pause, but this time a shorter one. “Yeah, ok.” Louis visibly holds his breath waiting for Zayn to speak again. He can’t decide if he doesn’t want to hear anything Zayn says or never wants Zayn to stop talking in his ear again. “I want to know if we’re ok.” 

Louis pauses. He doesn’t know if a more loaded question has even been said out loud. Ok? In what context? He’s alive, getting out of bed every day, he feeds himself. His family doesn’t look at him with the worried glances anymore. He guesses that could be considered ok. He can’t speak for Zayn though. 

“In...in what context?” He croaks. 

“Like, if we were for some reason forced to be in the same room as one another, how bad would it be? For you, I mean?” 

Louis’ first reaction is a great big scream of  _ NO _ . Every cell in his body seems to have a flight reaction to the idea of seeing Zayn in person. So he guesses that answers that question. He isn’t exactly sure how to say that to Zayn though. As much as the idea of them being physically in one another’s presence scares him, he doesn’t want to hurt the man’s feelings. 

“I think that maybe it would be better to not find out,” he replies and doesn’t know if he’s surprised by how much it hurts to even speak it out loud. 

“Well, that’s a problem,” Zayn sighs, throwing Louis even more off balance. 

“And why’s that?” Louis can feel himself tensing, old familiar feelings of anxiety wrenching at the muscles in his neck. 

“Because Liam invited me to his wedding, and I accepted,” Zayn tells Louis as though he’s just telling him that a close family member has died. 

Louis kind of feels that way too, though. Liam, his best friend, the man who he’s going to be best man for in a few short months. The man who knows how miserable he was...is over his breakup with Zayn. God, Louis has cried on his shoulder more times than he can count. Why would he do this to Louis? 

“Why?” He practically pleads, trying desperately to clear the lump from his throat. He hates that this is affecting him the way it is. 

“We’re friends too, Louis. We all met at the same time.” 

That’s not a lie. That stupid pub night singing competition. A whole group of them that couldn’t be more different ended up being best friends for nearly a decade. Some closer than others though, and now some not at all. Louis doesn’t know why he automatically assumed that people would take sides when him and Zayn broke up. Wishful thinking, he guesses. 

“So you want to make sure that it’s not going to be weird. That ship has sailed, bud.” He wishes that he were as flippant about it as his voice made him sound. 

“It doesn’t have to be weird,” Zayn pleads. “We could...go back to how it was. We were friends once.” 

“Friends,” Louis says, incredulous. 

“I miss my friend.” 

What a dirty rotten trick, Louis thinks to himself as he absorbs the pitiful supplication. He could never say no to that voice, to the face that Louis can picture in his mind more clearly than the one that he sees in the mirror every day. 

“Of course,” he sighs through a clenched jaw. “It doesn’t have to be weird.” 

“So we’re ok?” Zayn asks, just to pin one last stab to Louis’ heart. 

Louis can’t bring himself to affirm this. He isn’t ok, and he doesn’t know if he’ll be ok for a long time. He just mumbles an mhm before making a quick excuse. “Listen, Zayn. I’m about to eat dinner. Sorry, but it’s getting cold.” 

“Oh.” If Louis didn’t know better, he would think that Zayn sounds disappointed. “Well don’t let me keep you.” 

“Ok…” Louis is desperate to get off the phone, for this voice to stop slicing him to shreds. “Well, thanks for calling.” 

He’s not, but he still has a few manners. 

“See you in a few months I guess.” Zayn sounds only slightly cheered. Louis doesn’t know how to feel about that, so he takes it as the signal to just hang up and have it over. He has to physically cling to the counter top to keep himself from buckling. His dinner excuse is a joke. He’s not eating tonight. He doesn’t think he’ll be able to do anything besides go lay down and cry himself to sleep. 

“I’d like to think that you’re not obtuse enough to believe that I stopped being friends with Zayn just because you two broke up,” Liam says when Louis confronts him about the wedding invitation. It comes so quickly and clearly that Louis would bet money that Liam had rehearsed it. 

“You say broke up like we both decided that it was a good idea to part ways. Not that he left me and broke my heart,” Louis pouts, surprised that it still stings as much as it does to say it out loud. 

It doesn’t help that Liam looks at him sadly, pity set deep in his eyes. “That wasn’t his intention, and you know it.” 

“I think he made it pretty clear when it turned out that living in Chicago was more important than being with the apparent love of his life.” God, he’s regretting even bringing this up. It’s still too close to the surface. 

“Just like you made it clear that staying in New York was more important than being with the apparent love of your life?” Liam tilts his head inquisitively, but not unkindly. 

In a rare instance, Louis doesn’t have anything to really say back to this. It’s a bit of a blow. He wants to yell that it’s not the same thing, but he can’t bring himself to defend his reasons. Besides, it doesn’t make it hurt any less anyway, does it? He decides to drop it and lets Liam start rambling about a weird thing that happened to him at work instead. 

It’s less than two weeks leading up to the wedding and Louis has successfully avoided thinking about having to see Zayn face to face again. But the reality has been hitting him like a blow to the gut every morning for the last few days, and he really isn’t able to pretend it’s not happening again. 

Louis wakes up this morning knowing that he dreamt about Zayn the night before. His face is floating in Louis’ mind as his brain floats out of the fog of sleep. But on top of that, the feeling of love lingers in his heart. He can’t remember the dream exactly, just that he was happy. They were happy. It makes him want to crawl back into his head and live there for a while. 

It also makes him realise that he has to come to some kind of terms that this day is happening. He can’t ruin Liam’s day with his own hang ups, but this means that he’s going to have to deal with the closure that he has pretended to feel to anyone who asks. It would be easier if he could be moody and distant, his usual method of concealing his feelings. 

But he can’t do that, not to Liam, and not to anyone else. He thinks of Zayn again. Pictures him in a nice suit, smiling, dancing. It hits him suddenly that he might bring a date, and the thought causes the air to blow suddenly from his body. 

“It will be fine,” he says out loud to himself in the mirror of his bathroom. His facial expression tells a different story as his eyes plead back with him to make it all go away. He splashes cold water on his face to get some of the colour back in his cheeks. 

Maybe he’ll settle for just surviving the night. 

“You look more nervous than I do.” Liam smirks as he helps Louis straighten his tie. Louis wants to throw up. 

“I’m so sorry, Liam. This is meant to be the other way around.” 

“It’s alright.” Liam hugs him suddenly. Louis leans into it, savouring the comfort of Liam’s arm. “Honestly, if I knew how you still felt about it all, I wouldn’t have invited him.” 

This makes Louis feel even more awful. Not only is he making Liam feel guilty on his wedding day, he’s making him choose Louis over Zayn. 

He feels a resolve that he’s been desperately searching for for weeks. He plasters a smile on his face and pulls himself reluctantly from Liam’s arms. 

“No,” he says with firm determination. “It’s fine. I’m fine, Liam. And so, you will be.” 

Liam’s shoulders visibly relax, clearly willing to overlook Louis’ lies in favour of enjoying a peaceful day with his new wife. Louis is grateful, and they both go to their separate corners to prepare for the big moment. 

As they make their way up the aisle to take their place at the front of the church, Louis makes a point to not look around to see who is in the pews. He unfocuses his eyes, so that he doesn’t also look like a thunder cloud hiding behind Liam’s broad smile. As they stand in the view of the entire church, Louis makes quips to make Liam smile and to distract himself from the feeling of deep brown eyes boring into the back of his head. Suddenly a blast from the organ starts the Bridal Chorus, and all eyes and all thoughts are rightly on the happy couple. 

He rides the high of the emotional ceremony through the church and into the reception. He’s happy that there isn’t one fake smile from him in any of Liam’s wedding photos. They can’t ask more than that from the best man can they? Well, aside from the speech that he has agonized over since Liam asked him to be best man. He could say it now in his sleep. 

A light tap on the shoulder makes his chest suddenly tighten, and his hands loosen so much as to almost make him drop his drink. He whips around, and as he expected, there is Zayn, warm eyes gazing into his. He feels as though he has forgotten how to breath.

“Hi,” Zayn says, voice so soft that it almost comes out as a whisper. 

Louis immediately feels tears prickle his eyes. 

“Hi,” he replies. 

“You and Liam looked great up there, very debonair.” 

“Thanks.” Louis clenches his fists, trying to fight the urge to run out the door. “You also look nice.” 

His words are jolted, almost bitten out. He doesn’t want to do this. He doesn’t want to be here. This is not ok. 

Zayn seems to catch Louis’ discomfort because disappointment washes over his face. 

“So we’re not good then?” He asks, but it’s more of a statement than a question. 

“I’m sorry. I can’t do this.” Louis doesn’t wait for a reply before he bolts out the door. 

He doesn’t make it far before he’s too out of breath to run. It’s not so much being out of shape as being on the brink of hyperventilation for the past week. The reception venue is a country club that makes a person feel that they are on some estate in the middle of old England. Any moment he expects a man in a top hat to stroll past him on the path to the pond. It’s not his scene, to say the least, but it’s not his wedding either. He slowly makes his way to the small lake that is equipped with real life swans and sits on the grass, only somewhat mindful of his rented tuxedo pants. 

Seeing Zayn face to face was worse than he even imagined it would be. The realisation that he is still as madly and hopelessly in love with him as the last time he saw him is like a slap across the face. It’s been months. His life didn’t stop. He should have, at least a fraction, moved on.

“Christ,” he mumbles to himself as he allows a few tears to slip through. He wipes them away furiously wondering what in the hell he’s going to do now. He can’t go home. He can’t leave Liam. And he isn’t sure he wants to, but clearly pretending isn’t going to work either. 

“Please don’t run away,” a small voice says behind him. 

Zayn sits down beside him, a good distance from touching, but close enough that Louis can smell him. It’s an unfamiliar scent, and it makes Louis angry for a reason that probably only a therapist could decipher. 

“Ok,” Louis says. 

He glances at Zayn. He looks pale and sad. Red rings his lower eyelashes. 

“I didn’t realise that this would hurt so much,” Zayn finally says, looking mostly at his hands and his knees that are curled up to his chin. 

Louis wants to be rude and sarcastic. He wants to ask what he thought it would be like, but he doesn’t have the energy. He just wants the pain to go away. 

“Yeah,” he says. Maybe if he doesn’t talk to him at all, Zayn will give up and go home. Home to Chicago. 

“I miss you so much, Louis. Everyday,” Zayn pushes on. 

Louis breaks. 

“And what do you think that is going to help?” He snaps at Zayn who flinches, but doesn’t move. “How is your telling me how much you miss me going to make either of us feel better? How is it going to fix this?” 

“It’s not,” Zayn agrees. “But I can’t help how I feel.” 

“Then move back to New York,” Louis says. He knows that it’s hurtful. He doesn’t care. 

“It’s not that simple,” Zayn sighs, resigned. They’ve had this conversation before. It went in circles then. There’s no reason why it won’t again. 

“If you love me as much as you say you do-” 

“Bullshit,” Zayn says, voice still quiet, but hard. “If you still loved me then you would open your God damned eyes and see why I can’t do that.” 

Louis tells himself that he can’t see. But he knows that he just doesn’t want to. He wants Zayn to be here, and be with him, and be happy. And any other option is just useless. 

“I know.” Zayn interupts his thoughts. “You want it all to be a pretty package. Happily ever after.” He stops, and Louis thinks that’s it. Zayn will stand up and walk away, and Louis won’t ever see him again. It will probably be for the best. “I don’t fit in a pretty package, Louis. I’m messy, and I colour outside of the lines.” 

The words stab right into Louis’ heart. 

“But I love you. You’re the best thing that has ever happened to me.”

“But?” Louis says, just to be defiant. 

“But I was dying here. You were the only thing keeping me hanging on. And in the end, it wasn’t enough anymore.” 

There it is, laid out like a cadaver during an autopsy. Louis wants to wrap his arms around his middle just to hold himself together. 

“I tried, Louis. I promise you I tried everything I could to make it work.”

“I could have taken care of you,” Louis sobs, betraying the emotion that he had been so desperately trying to bury. 

“I didn’t want a caregiver. I want a partner.” Zayn has also begun to weep softly. 

“So that’s it then?” Louis asks. The idea of it slices his heart open. 

“Are you still dedicated to this place?” 

“My entire life you mean?”

“Your preconceived idea that this is the only place that you would be happy,” Zayn corrects him. 

“Please don’t ask me to choose,” Louis pleads. 

Zayn smiles at him, but it’s sad. “You already have, my love.” 

Then, he takes Louis' face in his hands and kisses him gently on the lips. His wet lashes flutter against Louis’ cheek before he pulls back, stands up, and walks away. When he’s gone from sight, Louis lets out a wail and curls into himself, not knowing how long he sits there before Liam finds him and packs him into a cab. Realistically, it might be the worst day of his life. 

He doesn’t leave his bed the next day or the day after that or the day after that. He contemplates just calling into work for the rest of the week but feels that it would be some sort of failure. It’s not supposed to be like this. People break up. It happens every day, and they should be able to move on with their lives after half a year. 

Besides, the nasty part of his brain tells him, he shouldn’t even be surprised. It’s not like he didn’t know. It’s not like Zayn didn’t warn him within weeks of them meeting, of them falling hopelessly for one another. Zayn has never stayed in one place for longer than a few years. Even as a child his family moved around the country, even out of the country on a few occasions. Louis even fantasized that they were all a bunch of fugitives on the run or spies. But the reality was that they were runners. All of them. Run from their problems, run from their feelings. They run from setting down roots. 

Louis had gotten a precious few extra years from Zayn, but he could see a mile away when the itch became unbearable. He ignored it for as long as he could. Zayn had begged him to come along, but just like Zayn was a leaf taken by the breeze, Louis was a giant oak, with roots so deep that he assumed that transpanting him would make him wither and die immediately. He couldn’t live that life, but that didn’t make it easier to forgive Zayn for not being able to live this life either. 

But why did it have to hurt so much?

His phone had been ringing constantly for the last couple of days and has been largely ignored. He texts Liam and his sister occasionally just to let them know that he is still functioning, but he is really not in the mood to talk to anyone. 

The phone is ringing now. Louis only looks at the phone because it’s close to him. He assumes it’s Liam again, but it’s not. It’s Zayn. Panic rises in his chest because he is reaching for the phone before he can even logically stop himself. 

“Hello?” His voice is rusty from lack of use and also a bit of crying. 

“Louis?” Zayn asks. 

“Yeah.” He clears his throat. “What is it?” 

He doesn’t have the energy for pleasantries. 

“It’s been awful,” Zayn says, clearly not going for small talk either. “I can’t stop loving you. I can’t stop wanting you. I’m sorry…” 

“Are you sorry for loving me or sorry for leaving me?” Louis asks, emboldened by his exhaustion and lack of inhibitions. 

“Both,” Zayn breaths. “Both because I don’t know if I will ever be able to give you what you deserve and also because I called to ask if I could try anyway.” 

Zayn speaks so softly that it feels like they are exchanging secrets. It makes Louis long to hear that sweet voice in his ear. 

“I can’t be like you, Zayn.” If Zayn only knew how he wishes that he could. 

“I’m moving back,” Zayn replies. “If there is any chance that you might trust me again, I’ll come back, and I’ll wait for you.” 

There’s a long pause. Zayn is waiting for him to say something, Louis knows but Louis has nothing that he can say. Zayn back? Louis doesn’t know if he can bear it. 

“Louis,” Zayn whispers again, breaking Louis momentarily from his heartbreak. “When I left New York, when I left you, it was for fear. Fear of commitment? Fear of getting hurt? Something baseless that my parents taught me as a child? I don’t know. But I have found something else that I fear more. Something that hurts infinitely more, and that is never seeing you again.”

“You would stay?” Louis asks, as if he were a small child. 

“I would never leave your sight again if you let me,” Zayn says with a resolve that Louis had never heard coming from him before. Not in all of the years that Louis had known him. “Do you think that you would ever forgive me?” 

Louis doesn’t know. Honestly he’s never thought about it and doesn’t feel capable of thinking of it now. So he says the only thing that he knows for certain. 

“I miss you every second of the day. When I’m awake, when I’m asleep. Not having you is breaking me.” He hears Zayn sigh on the other side of the phone. In relief? He doesn’t know. But he adds, “If you leave again, I don’t know if I will survive it.” 

Zayn doesn’t make any promises this time. He just says, “I’m coming home.” 

And Louis replies with a quiet and hopeful, “Ok.” 


End file.
